<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>zukka tumblr prompts by nebulastucky</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29631504">zukka tumblr prompts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebulastucky/pseuds/nebulastucky'>nebulastucky</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Meet-Cute, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Tattoos, Tumblr Prompt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:08:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,078</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29631504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebulastucky/pseuds/nebulastucky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of zukka ficlets from dialogue prompts on tumblr</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <a href="https://https://goldrushzukka.tumblr.com/post/643773303198285824/angstfluff-prompt-list/">prompt list</a>
</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>86. "Don't be scared, I'm right here."</p><p>Sokka helps Zuko cross an item off his bucket list.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"This is a mistake," Zuko says.</p><p>“No, it’s not.” Sokka’s voice sounds like waves crashing on a beach, in that most people would find it relaxing, but Zuko has never been to the beach so it doesn’t really do anything for him right now. “We’re doing this for a reason, remember? In fact - if I’m remembering right - <em>you</em> put this one on the list.”</p><p>"Did not."</p><p>Suki, somewhere on the other side of the room, says, “Yes, you did. I was there. You stole <em>my</em> pen to do it.”</p><p>Zuko huffs, squirms in his seat. He closes his eyes, trying to <em>centre himself</em> or whatever he’s supposed to have been learning from Uncle’s mindfulness meditation crap, but it does not work. He hears the scrape-roll-squeak of an ancient stool across linoleum, and the spike of his anxiety reaches a new high. He opens his eyes again, and all of his senses seem to <em>narrow.</em></p><p>Glaring fluorescent lights above him, irritating his bad eye. </p><p>The sound of Suki’s boots on the floor, the creak of the stool as it rolls closer to him, the ragged in-out-in-out-in of his own breathing.</p><p>The smell of machines and rubbing alcohol and ink and - and sea salt. Peach iced tea. Mango-coconut shampoo. Suddenly, he can breathe a little easier.</p><p>That ease vanishes again the second the needle buzzes to life. Even by his bad ear, it sounds like gunfire.</p><p>“Sweet holy gods,” Zuko curses. He tastes the all too familiar tang of pure, unbridled fear in his mouth.</p><p>And then there’s the squeak of another stool, barely audible over the hornets nest cacophony of the needle, and Sokka’s voice in his ear: “Don’t be scared, I’m right here.”</p><p>Zuko blinks up at him, smiling like the sun, and his heart rate slows. The whole <em>world </em>slows. Sokka takes his hand and squeezes, and it speeds up again, but this time it’s not because of some lunatic inked from head to toe about to stab him a million times.</p><p>The buzzing stops for a second. The lunatic - Aang - asks, “Are you ready?”</p><p>Zuko swallows, voice nowhere to be found. He looks at Sokka, and Sokka looks back, and then their fingers are laced together and he’s answering for him, “Yes, he’s ready. Go for it.”</p><p>It’s not true because he knows it can’t be possible, and later he’ll tell himself he’s imagining it, but Zuko swears he feels that hand in his more than he feels the needle.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <a href="https://goldrushzukka.tumblr.com/post/643776800338608128/86-with-zukka/">rebloggable version</a>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>52. "I wouldn't change a thing about you."</p><p>Firelord Zuko and Chief Sokka have a heart to heart.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Do you ever wish things were different?”</p><p>Sokka almost thinks he’s imagining it. He’s tired right down to his bones, and his mind is still half-loopy - both of which are direct results of <em>very</em> enthusiastic reunion activities - so there is a non-zero chance he’s not actually hearing Zuko’s voice right now, and it’s just inside his head.</p><p>So he says, “Hmm?” and Zuko repeats himself.</p><p>“I mean,” Zuko clarifies, or tries to, “I know right now isn’t the time for this, but if you could - what would you change?”</p><p>Sokka rolls onto his side to look at him. The room is mostly dark, only lit by the wavering flames of a couple of candles, but even blind, Sokka would know that careful look on Zuko’s face.</p><p>He thinks for a second, trying to figure out how to do this right. Obviously, there’s plenty Sokka would change about their situation - living half the world apart, for one thing. Being Chief is important to him, and he loves it, but the same is true for Zuko, too. It’s not like Zuko can rule the Fire Nation from the South Pole, though, no matter how many arguments they have about it, so that’s moot anyway. He’d give them more time together, but he’d still want that if they lived in each other’s pockets, and Sokka’s smart, but he’s not bend-time-and-space smart. Yet.</p><p>But all of that - it’s not important. It’s not what Zuko’s asking, not really. Sokka knows that, and Zuko knows it too, and that understanding passes through the air between them in the beat before Sokka answers Zuko’s real question.</p><p>He brushes a lock of hair out of Zuko’s face and tucks it behind his ear. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”</p><p>Zuko’s throat bobs as he swallows, jostling the smooth blue stone that’s lived there for the last year. He doesn’t say anything, so Sokka keeps going.</p><p>“You are the best thing in my life, Zuko,” he says, all eye contact and grand sincerity. “You snore, and you’re reckless, and you make me furious, sure - but I miss you even when you’re right next to me, and I would never want you any other way.”</p><p>Zuko stares up at him, unblinking, and the same smile Sokka fell for a thousand years ago creeps across his face. “Did that just come to you, or did you write it down first?”</p><p>Sokka sighs, and settles his head against Zuko’s chest. “Go to sleep, asshole.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <a href="https://goldrushzukka.tumblr.com/post/643780885831876608/36-or-52/">rebloggable version</a>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>84. "Going somewhere?"</p><p>Katara and Sokka have a nice chat in the middle of the night.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>The plan is foolproof.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Or, it would be, if not for Katara’s uncanny ability to sense that there <em>is</em> a plan to begin with.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He almost makes it to the door this time. He’s got his keys squished uncomfortably in his back pocket to prevent any jingling, his phone is on silent, he doesn’t even put on his shoes - and yet. And yet.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He’s reaching for the doorknob when the porch light flicks on outside.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Busted.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>In a voice like frostbite, Katara asks, “Going somewhere?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sokka’s shoulders cave in. He turns slowly on his heel, like if he puts it off long enough she won’t be standing there with that look of absolute derision on her face. He doesn’t even need to see it anymore, it’s etched into his mind as deeply as his own name.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But he turns, because he always does, and she’s there in the dining room doorway, because she always is.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She lifts a cold eyebrow at him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Zuko’s,” he says. It comes out like an apology.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And what does Zuko want at this time of night?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Um,” Sokka says, because she already knows the answer. <em>"</em><em>Company.</em> Let’s go with that.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Here’s the thing: Katara never <em>stops</em> him. She would never do that to him. What she <em>would</em> do, though, is make sure he knows that she knows exactly where he is, what he’s doing, and with whom. And she’s always up again when he gets back, so he doesn’t even get to enjoy the afterglow for any longer than the car drive home.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s not that Katara doesn’t like Zuko, or that she doesn’t approve of their relationship or their night time dalliances. If anything, the opposite is true. She’s <em>friends</em> with Zuko, and she knows Sokka loves him, and she thinks it’s cute that Sokka’s boyfriend still bootycalls him four years into the relationship - she’s just an asshole about it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Okay,” she says, in that same airy voice she always uses, “have fun. Tell Azula I said hi.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Azula doesn’t <em>like</em> you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I know, that’s why I say hi.”</p>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <a href="https://goldrushzukka.tumblr.com/post/643783254830448640/84/">rebloggable version</a>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>27. "Kiss me."</p><p>Sokka and Zuko take a stroll through the palace gardens.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>They're just - walking through the gardens when it happens.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sokka's saying something stupid, some story Zuko was probably actually there for now that he thinks about it, but Zuko's <em>laughing</em>. He's laughing so hard he has to lean on Sokka or eat gravel, and Sokka just - he can't stop <em>looking</em> at him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He's so...everything like this. Out of control. Human. Beautiful.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Hey," Sokka says, loud enough that Zuko meets his smiling eye. "Kiss me."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Zuko freezes where he stands, and his laughter stops so abruptly Sokka thinks he's choking. "I - what?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You want to, right?" Sokka's confidence wavers for a second. "Unless - unless I'm reading this totally wrong -"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No," Zuko says, and then looks surprised by it. "No, I want to. Spirits, Sokka, I've wanted to kiss you for three years."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"So do it," Sokka tells him. "I've wanted you to for longer."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I - <em>you're</em> - okay. Yeah."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Zuko looks at him for a long time, like he's never looked at him before - except, that's not true. Sokka <em>has</em> seen this look on Zuko before, he sees it a hundred times a day when they're together. Only now he knows what to call it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And then Zuko takes a step closer into Sokka's space, and he's leaning in, and it's all very real very suddenly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The first brush of lips is feather-light and just as soft. Zuko is careful and tentative about it, not pushing the matter any further than it needs, and Sokka - well. Sokka may have underestimated just how hungry he was.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It creeps up on him like an earthquake, and when Zuko starts to pull away, he chases him, one hand on the side of his face and the other bunching in the front of his robes. Zuko makes a sound that's both desperate and relieved, and leans into every part of Sokka he can.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When they part, breathless and giddy and drunk on it, Sokka asks, <em>"Three years?"</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Zuko, clinging to him like a drowning man to a straw, asks, <em>"Longer?"</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sokka can't help the laugh that bursts from him, like it's coming from his individual cells and not his just his lungs, and their noses bump together as he says, "Zuko, I think we may be idiots."</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <a href="https://goldrushzukka.tumblr.com/post/643814690918711296/27/">rebloggable version</a>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>77. "We're meant for each other."</p><p>Zuko, Sokka, and a licensed medical professional take a ride together.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>The accident isn’t really anyone’s fault. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It’s not even that bad. No one’s hurt any worse than a couple of bruised ribs and some superficial bleeding, and insurance is covering the damage to that poor lady’s garden thanks to Sokka managing to convince them that a bird flying into his face is <em>not</em> an act of god - plus, the other guy assures him that he already had that scar when Sokka cycled him into the rose bushes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He’s not holding any of it against Sokka, either, and even offers to ride in the ambulance with him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The ambulance is <em>not</em> Sokka’s idea. He feels fine, honestly, but the old lady whose roses are still caught in the spokes of his back wheel swears the angle of his knee looks wrong and calls one anyway. He tries to explain to her that he broke his leg when he was 15 and it never really went back into the right place, but Madam Wu - as she introduces herself - will not hear it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>His bike is pretty mangled, but it was on its way out anyway, so he promises Madam Wu he’ll bring his green-thumbed friend-of-nature best friend by to sort out her flowerbed if she’ll hold onto the wreck until he gets back from the hospital visit he really doesn’t need. He figures Toph can use it for scrap metal, or maybe some junkyard creature can find a use for it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I don’t know how much use a bike bent in half is going to be,” Sokka’s poor, unfortunate ambulance-mate says. “I’m also not sure you’ve ever been to a junkyard, if you think there are <em>creatures</em> living there.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sokka looks at him. He’s sitting sort of half-on-half-off the stretcher Sokka <em>really</em> doesn’t need. He’s handsome like a sculpture, even dishevelled and with twigs sticking out of his hair.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He ducks his head then, a shy pink creeping up from the collar of his shirt. “Thanks, I guess.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What?” Sokka says. Then, “Oh, shit, did I say that out loud?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Handsome Ambulance Man - Sokka really needs to learn his name - huffs a laugh. “You’ve been talking non-stop since I pulled you off the ground, buddy,” he says. “It’s Zuko, by the way. You said that part out loud too.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sokka.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah, I got that.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What do you mean you -” Sokka groans. “Am I doing third person?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The guy - Zuko - laughs again. “Don’t worry about it.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A paramedic, who Sokka swears has only just materialised on his other side, tells him, “Your friend here says you hit your head pretty hard. It’s probably a minor concussion.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I - that makes sense,” Sokka says. He catches sight of his reflection, distorted and bendy, in the dark windows as they drive through a tunnel and sure enough, there’s a lump welling up on the side of his head. Wait, hold on - “No it doesn’t. I crashed into a <em>bush</em>. What did I hit my head on, a branch?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That would be me,” Zuko says. He lifts up his t-shirt - which, okay, show-off - and there it is: a spectacular bruise the exact same shape as Sokka’s stupid head, blooming in watercolour on his ribs.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Well,” Sokka says. “Would you look at that.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Zuko gives him a shaky smile. “We match.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sokka has never heard of outrageous confidence as a concussion symptom before, but hell if he doesn’t experience it right then and there. “It’s like we’re meant for each other.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He sort of expects Zuko to laugh in his face, or maybe call him an asshole, but that timid blush flushes his face again, and he holds Sokka’s eye when he says, “You <em>did</em> get me roses. I suppose the next step is dinner?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That sounds about right to me,” Sokka hums, and tries to ignore the paramedic scoffing as she scribbles something on a form.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <a href="https://goldrushzukka.tumblr.com/post/643838888744484864/77-maybe/">rebloggable version</a>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>59. "Is this okay?"</p><p>Zuko has a bad day.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It gets hard, sometimes, being the Fire Lord.</p><p>The job itself, the governing of a nation, is always hard. There's no two ways about it. Having people's livelihoods in your hands never stops being daunting. But <em>being the Fire Lord</em>, with all the formalities and the being waited on hand and foot and the titles and the fear in people's eyes - that's the terrible part.</p><p>On the good days, Zuko can ignore it. On the good days, he can let himself be catered to, tiptoed around, bowed deeply and apologised profusely at. He never forgets that it feels wrong for people to fall at his feet, aching and weeping for the approval he already extends by default. Some days, he can even enjoy it - it's <em>nice</em> not to have to worry about whether he has his hair piece in right or his robes are hanging presentably, because there's always someone on hand to adjust him if he needs it.</p><p>On the bad days, though, he looks in the mirror and sees his father.</p><p>On the bad days, it's all he can do to get out of bed, let alone look his employees - <em>employees</em>, not servants, because <em>he is not his father</em> - in the eye. Sokka helps, of course, because there's not much Sokka doesn't help, but he can't fix everything, as much as Zuko wishes he could. So he cancels court and doesn't eat, hopes that if he spends the day curled in on himself and not causing anyone else any trouble he'll feel better. It doesn't work, but he does it anyway, because he doesn't know what else he can do.</p><p>Today is a bad day.</p><p>He knew it the second he woke up. If he's really honest with himself, which he doesn't like to be, he knew it before he even went to sleep. Today is a bad day. </p><p>He lets one of the guards stationed at the door know to give the rest of his team the day off - the guards have to stay, they always have to stay - and crawls back under the sheets of his bed, wide and empty and too regal for a man who can't look his reflection in the eye. He stays there for hours, unable to sleep, and when he does, unable to dream. His stomach howls at him, and he wants to howl back. </p><p>He stays like that, just wallowing and hiding for hours, until there's a knock at his door. He'd yell a dismissal, but that would mean talking, and anyway - he knows that knock. It's the kind of knock that's more warning than anything else. The kind of knock that only ever comes from one hand.</p><p>Zuko doesn't say anything to the door, because there is truly no point, and Sokka waltzes right in. </p><p>"Good afternoon, hotman," he says, and Zuko knows he's being generous. The sun sank past afternoon a long time ago.</p><p>Zuko groans, and burrows deeper into his plush fortress, sheet over his head.</p><p>He hears shoes being kicked off, and then the mattress dips, and Sokka's shuffling right up close to him. He can feel the comfortable heat of him even through the layers of sheets.</p><p>Sokka's voice is low when he says, "Little birdie told me you cancelled work today."</p><p>Zuko groans again. "Sokka -"</p><p>"Hey," Sokka says, and Zuko can hear his wavy hand gestures, "I'm not complaining. You know I like a day off. But the same little birdie told me you also haven't eaten today."</p><p>Zuko tugs the sheet off his face to scowl at him, but it doesn't last. Sokka's eyes are soft with fondness and concern, and the blue stone at his throat swings forward slightly as he shifts that bit closer.</p><p>"I brought you something," Sokka says. He holds up a hefty bunch of bulbous red grapes. "I thought maybe we could share them. Call it date night for this week."</p><p>And that's - it's so <em>Sokka</em>. Taking care of him, always taking care of him, and calling it romance so Zuko will allow it. Zuko <em>knows</em> what he's doing, sees right through his smitten-polar-bear-puppy-grand-gesture facade, and it still works. It works every damn time.</p><p>So he lets it happen, because he always does, because he can never say no to that smile. He lets Sokka pull his head into his lap, lets Sokka lay sweet fruit on his tongue, lets Sokka take care of him.</p><p>Sokka takes every other grape for himself until there's only a handful of them left, and then he lets Zuko feed them to him by hand. The whole affair is gentle and kind, and neither of them says a word until the grapes are gone, and Sokka tosses the now bare vine onto the nightstand on his side, to be dealt with later. Zuko curls closer against him, hiding his face in Sokka's lap.</p><p>Sokka's hand hovers over his head, just shy of touching. He wraps a single lock of hair around one finger and whispers, "Is this okay?"</p><p>On a good day, Sokka wouldn't need to ask. On a good day, Sokka's appreciation for Zuko's ocean of black hair is frequent and usually quite verbose. On a good day, Zuko turns to putty under Sokka's touch.</p><p>Today is a bad day, though, and on bad days Zuko doesn't see his long hair as honouring the traditions of his people. On bad days, his long hair makes him look like his father, and his father before him, and all the pain and suffering that's come from his lineage.</p><p>But because Sokka asks, and Zuko can't say no to him, he hums an affirmative and allows this, too. </p><p>"Tell me to stop anytime you want," Sokka says, as he drags his fingers slowly through Zuko's hair. His nails are deft and satisfying against Zuko's scalp, just the right side of too much pressure.</p><p>Sokka tells him about his day in hushed tones and runs his fingers through Zuko's hair until Zuko drifts back to sleep, and it's enough. It's enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <a href="https://goldrushzukka.tumblr.com/post/643946821670109184/a-nice-tender-59-with-zukka-please/">rebloggable version</a>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>50. "Nothing is wrong with you."</p><p>Sokka and Zuko take a trip to the emergency room.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is a sequel to prompt 77!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><div class="">
  <p>It’s Katara that meets the ambulance at the hospital, because of course it is.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The doors open, and she takes one look at them - Sokka with his cartoon head bump and Zuko with his scar and leaves in his hair - and demands, immediately, “What did you do?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Nothing!” Sokka says, as he’s carted out of the ambulance on the stupid gurney.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Katara glares at him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I swear,” he promises, “I didn’t do anything. There was a bird -”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“He ran me into some bushes on his bike,” Zuko says.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Katara looks at him. “And you are?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Zuko. Total stranger.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sokka watches her watching him - how he doesn’t offer her a hand to shake, how he keeps a tight grip on the side of the gurney, how he shrinks a little under her stare - and feels the desperate kind of embarrassment he usually associates with Meeting The Parents. Which is strange, because he’s older than Katara, and it’s not like he’s got any reason to want her approval, or whatever it is he’s checking her face for. Not that it would matter if she didn’t give it, since there’s nothing to <em>approve of</em> right now, but - it’d be nice if she didn’t immediately hate the perfectly nice hot stranger he crashed his bike into, especially since he'd kind of like for there to maybe be something to approve of at some point.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Beside him, Zuko groans inwardly, but when Sokka looks at him, there’s a slow grin cracking across his face.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” Sokka asks.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah, buddy, you are.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh, good. Always nice to give my sister a reason to make fun of me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sister?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Unfortunately,” Katara says. She offers him a hand off the gurney and helps to steady him on their way into an exam room. “Let’s get you checked out, huh?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“The, um - the paramedic said he might have a concussion,” Zuko says. He’s hovering at the edge of the cubicle, all arms crossed over broad chest and concerned eyes and frankly obscene bone structure and - blushing. Cheeks flushed pink and fond smile and <em>god, shut your mouth already, Sokka.</em></p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You know what," Katara says, looking away from Sokka to eye Zuko up and down. "Let me get a look at you first, and then you can get out of here and my idiot brother can stop harassing you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'm fine," Zuko says. "I mean, it's fine. He's fine. I'm not hurt."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Are you a doctor?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Well, no -"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Then take a seat, Zuko Total Stranger."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He huffs and puffs about it, but he sits on the edge of the exam bed, as far away from Sokka as he can, and lets her take the ten minutes she needs to check him over.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sokka doesn't mean to stare, and he really tries not to, but - he's right there, and he's <em>handsome</em>. And this exam room is not so much a room as it is a bed surrounded by a curtain, so there's not a lot else that's interesting enough to hold his attention. And Katara's busy, so she can't even make fun of him for it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Katara snorts. "I absolutely can. I am choosing not to for the sake of our company."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You could just tell me I'm talking out loud, you know," Sokka says.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Where's the fun in that?" Katara smirks at him, and then rears back away from prodding at Zuko's bruises. "That big one on your ribs will take a couple of weeks to go down, and you'll need to be careful not to fall into any more rose bushes, but other than that, nothing's wrong with you."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>I'll say</em>, Sokka thinks. Except that Katara rolls her eyes at him, and Zuko turns a very alarming shade of red, so he knows that thought did not stay where he left it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Katara strips off her gloves and fishes a fresh pair from a dispenser attached to the wall. "I cannot wait to tell Dad about this."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Katara -"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Shut up. Follow the light for me."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She flashes a torch in his eyes, and he blinks against it.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Stop being a baby," she says. Then, not taking her eyes off him, she says, "You can leave now, Zuko Total Stranger. I can't imagine you want to stick around for the stitches."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And it's - here's the thing. Sokka has known Zuko for about an hour. That's just not long enough to get to know someone, and it's definitely not long enough for Sokka to have gotten his fill of looking at someone as pretty as him - which is not the <em>whole</em> point, but is certainly <em>a</em> point - and anyway, how's he supposed to figure out the details of this dinner arrangement if Zuko's just going to <em>leave</em> -</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'd like to stay," Zuko says. "If - if that's okay. Is that okay?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Katara's eyes flick between them. "Are you asking me or him?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Um," Zuko says. Sokka looks at him, and catches the barest flicker of fondness in his eyes as he meets his gaze. "Is it okay? If I stay?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yeah," Sokka says, and for once he's conscious of speaking. "Stay."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The fondness in Zuko's eyes is warm and glowing and spreading down into his smile. He takes Sokka's hand, and Sokka doesn't care that Katara is rolling her eyes and muttering obscenities under her breath.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>find me on <a href="https://goldrushzukka.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/carlyraejervis?s=09/">twitter</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>